


And all pieces fall right into place

by cottonee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (just a bit), 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 12:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20929916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cottonee/pseuds/cottonee
Summary: After the Grand Prix Final, Viktor and Yuuri go separate ways for the rest of the season: Viktor returns to Russia and Yuuri goes back to Detroit. They try to make their long-distance relationship work while both prepare to win a gold medal.(Or; 5 times when Viktor and Yuuri miss each other + 1 time when they don’t need to say goodbye anymore.)





	And all pieces fall right into place

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [_Viktuuri Angst Bang!_](https://viktuuriangstbang.tumblr.com/) ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )
> 
> <s>can you believe it’s been three (3) years since yoi started airing? I can’t </s>
> 
> Hello! I'm glad to finally post this! I’ve always wanted to write a canon divergence and a fic focused on Viktor and Yuuri in a long-distance relationship, and this happened lol. also I totally took the inspiration from the 2016-17 season to write this lol
> 
> Thanks my wonderful [artist](https://twitter.com/mferret9). ❤
> 
> title from "so it goes..." by taylor swift.
> 
> I hope y’all will enjoy this!

**1**

**National Championships**

Yuuri ties his skates up and rises from his seat.

He paces around for a moment, moving in between skaters who are also getting ready to step into the ice. He resists the urge to sit back down and check his phone. Viktor sent him a good luck message a couple of hours ago before he left for practice.

Yuuri also sent a similar message to Viktor—short and concise, but still a loving one, not wanting to distract him further just before his free skate at the Russian Nationals.

It does not matter how many times Viktor has assured Yuuri that he would never be a distraction, it would be better for him to focus on practicing, especially when he has an important competition just a couple of hours away.

“Ready?” Celestino asks and Yuuri snaps out of his thoughts, focusing again on his surroundings.

Yuuri nods and takes off his skate guards and his jacket. It feels weird to wear Viktor’s old costume when he is not by his side, and it’s discouraging to know that Viktor is thousands of kilometers away from him—away from where he should be, cheering and waiting for Yuuri on the other side of the rink’s barrier.

However, as much as Yuuri misses Viktor, he could never encourage him to leave the ice. Not when Viktor’s eyes light up when he video calls Yuuri, and Yuuri can see the way his eyes light up when he talks about his returning motivation to skate and compete.

For Yuuri, it was important that Viktor could focus on training properly without having to spend valuable time supervising Yuuri’s progress as his coach, and with a heavy heart, Yuuri had asked Viktor—repeatedly—to going back to Russia until he finally relented.

“Just for the rest of the season,” Viktor had agreed after the Grand Prix Final.

Yuuri, on his part, had decided to return to Detroit after Japanese Nationals.

They had promised to talk about the subject again after the season is over and Yuuri cannot wait for it—wishes for the time to go by faster so he can meet Viktor again.

When it’s time for Yuuri to skate his short program, he forces himself to relax and smile as he enters the rink and the audience cheers for him. He does not even spare a look towards his coach before the music begins, and he focuses on doing his best.

Halfway through the program, realization hits him: it is the first time he skates to Eros without Viktor cheering for him from the rink’s barrier, and it hurts—it makes his chest feel tight and his eyes sting. He barely lands his triple axel and two-foots his quadruple flip’s landing.

He ends the competition in third place, and Viktor calls him after both of their competitions are done, when Yuuri is—not really—relaxing in his hotel room.

“Hey,” Yuuri says, trying his best to sound calm like he did not spend the whole day wishing Viktor was by his side.

“Hello, love.” Viktor’s voice is soft and Yuuri bites his lower lip, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “How did the competition go?”

“I’m currently in third place,” Yuuri answers. 

“I’m sure you’ll win the gold medal, your free skate still holds the World Record after all,” Viktor says and smiles softly. “Today I won a bronze medal, just barely, but for a comeback at my age, it’s good.”

“I'm glad.”

“I felt happier than all those times when I won gold.” Viktor laughs.

“I would’ve loved to watch you skate,” Yuuri whispers, crawling into bed.

They stay quiet for a moment. Yuuri hears Viktor’s breathing and he misses him by his side. Laments the fact that he will not be by Viktor’s side during his birthday in a couple of days.

“I miss you,” Viktor says like he can read Yuuri’s mind all the way from Russia.

“Miss you, too.” Yuuri sighs, looking at his gold ring, flexing his fingers before letting his hand fall to the bed. “I miss you a lot.”

(Yuuri wins the gold medal the following day. He likes the weight of the medal around his neck, but it would feel even better with Viktor’s arms holding him close.)

**2**

**European Championship**

Yuuri hurries to get home. He holds his groceries close to his chest as he rides the bus, feeling impatient with every minute that passes. Viktor’s competition will start soon and Yuuri _cannot _miss it.

Admittedly, it was not a very good idea to go shopping_ right before_ Viktor’s free skate at the European Championship, but Yuuri was feeling nervous and decided to distract himself by attending his responsibilities. Unfortunately for him, he spent longer than usual standing in the queue to pay for his purchase which made him late to take the bus.

If it wasn’t for the thick layer of snow covering the streets, Yuuri would have run all the way back home.

The previous day he woke up at 5 a.m. to watch the men’s short program live before he left to train. It was the first time Yuuri watched Viktor’s short program without feeling the pressure of the competition himself.

Viktor skated smoothly. His movements had always been beautiful, but there was something _new _on his face, on his expressions—something that made him look happier, freer.

Yuuri loved it. He returned home later after practice to find out that Viktor had sent him a bunch of pictures he took around Ostrava, captioned with ‘_Wish you were here __♥__’_, which made his heart skip a beat.

He _really_ wishes to be by Viktor’s side.

The bus comes to a stop in front of his building and Yuuri steps out of it, walking hastily until he reaches the door of his apartment. He opens the door and steps inside.

“I’m home,” he announces, kicking off his shoes.

“Welcome back,” Phichit answers, already seated in front of their T.V.

Yuuri places his bag on a kitchen counter and sits next to Phichit. On the screen, Georgi Popovich is crying his eyes out as he skates.

“I’m glad I made it back in time,” Yuuri sighs.

Phichit nods as he keeps eating chips from the bag he is holding.

“Just barely, the last group’s warm-up will start in a moment,” Phichit explains.

Just like Phichit said, after Georgi’s scores are announced the last group steps into the ice. Viktor smiles and waves when his name is called, wearing a soft blue costume that Yuuri has yet to see without a screen in between.

The six minutes are over quickly and Viktor claps Chris’ shoulder as they leave the ice together to wait for their time to skate. Then, he moves to stand next to Yakov Feltsman and Yuri Plisetsky, who looks at him dismissively.

Chris gets on the ice soon enough, blowing kisses for everyone. His motivation has skyrocketed since Viktor returned to the ice and it shows. Both of his programs have been polished and his consistency has also increased, making him the favorite of many to win the gold medal.

After Chris, is Yuri’s turn. Yuri has worked hard on improving his programs, trying to increase the difficulty of both. However, he did fall during his short program the previous day and had trouble focusing afterwards—he is, without a doubt, a skater with a great future ahead, but still a fifteen-year-old teen with a lot to learn.

Yuuri is sure that if Yuri had skated a perfect routine, he would have taken the first place, and not fourth like he barely did.

It feels too soon when Yuri’s scores are announced—which makes him storm away from the cameras looking too upset—and Viktor skates to the center of the rink, waving at the audience with a bright smile.

Yuuri could watch Viktor skate a thousand times and never get tired of it. Even before his new-found motivation, his skating has always been mesmerizing and getting to know him—_to fall in love with him_—was something that Yuuri never expected, but that felt like a puzzle piece falling into place when it happened.

Viktor’s program is noticeably less melancholic and more energetic than his previous ones, and yet, Yuuri feels tears pricking his eyes. Viktor looks like he is enjoying himself and Yuuri really wonders if Viktor misses him as much as he does.

**3**

**Four Continents Championship**

“Yuuri! Congrats on the new gold medal!” Viktor exclaims as soon as Yuuri accepts his video call.

Viktor is smiling, half-hugging an excited Makkachin, and Yuuri smiles too, feeling his heart beating faster, happy to have a moment of tranquility after a whirlwind of skaters and reporters alike surrounded him for what seemed hours.

“Thank you, Viktor,” Yuuri says.

Yuuri sits on his hotel room bed, half-drying his hair as he keeps his phone in level with his face.

“How are you feeling?” Viktor asks.

“Tired,” Yuuri answers. “The press conference finished a while ago, but it dragged on for too long.”

“I’m sure you did well, when you skated, I couldn’t look anywhere else.” Viktor’s words never fail to make Yuuri blush.

“Thank you—”

“However, the choreographic sequence was a bit sloppy and don’t make me start on your triple Axel! Your axis was off and for a moment I thought you’d fall!”

It is typical for Viktor to criticize his program along with his praise, so familiar it is oddly funny, and Yuuri laughs. Viktor joins him, gleefully enjoying the moment until Makkachin gets too close to Viktor’s phone and licks the screen.

“Makkachin, _no_!” Viktor whines and wipes the screen with his hand and shirt, attempting to clean it. “She has missed you!”

“I’ve missed her too,” Yuuri says, suddenly feeling a lump inside his throat. There is so much he wants to say.

_I’ve missed **you**, more than you can imagine._

_I want to be by your side._

_I’d go back on time and tell you to stay._

“I want to see your medal!” Viktor suddenly sings out and Yuuri is glad for the distraction.

Yuuri reaches for the bedside table and takes the gold medal in his hand. He holds it in front of the camera.

“I knew you’d win. I’m so proud of you!” Viktor’s eyes are warm and his whole expression is relaxed, matching the soft smile on his lips. Yuuri might start crying. “I’d give you the biggest kiss right now.”

Yuuri places the medal back on the bedside table and takes a moment to calm his heart and his shaking hands. He discards the towel and leans back to lie on his bed.

“I can’t wait for Worlds, I already told you I won’t go easy on you, my love.” Viktor winks.

“I don’t expect otherwise.”

Viktor chuckles and moves, leaving the living room and Makkachin behind, walking to his bedroom. He closes the door behind him and flops onto the bed.

“So, what are you wearing?” Viktor asks.

Yuuri blinks a couple of times.

“_Viktor_,” he starts. “What are you implying?”

“I think you already know.”

Yuuri already knows.

“It’s a video call, you can _see _what I’m wearing.”

“_Yuuri_.” Viktor actually pouts and rolls on his bed.

“Phichit will be back soon,” Yuuri glances at the clock on the corner of his phone’s screen. “Well, maybe not _that _soon, but soon enough.”

“We don’t need a lot of time alone.” Viktor wiggles his eyebrows, and _how can _Yuuri resist _that_?

“_Fine_, but if Phichit returns sooner than expected, I’m going to run to the bathroom and lock myself there… for the rest of my life.” Despite his words, Yuuri gets more comfortable on the bed and lowers the intensity of the lights.

“Sounds fair.” Viktor also fixes his pillows and lies back. “I wish you were here, I’d love to have you beneath me, or on top of me—I don’t care as long as it’s you.”

“Likewise,” Yuuri mumbles.

“I’d love to kiss your neck, your chest, your hip bones,” Viktor continues and Yuuri moves his hand lower, following the path Viktor describes. “You’re so gorgeous, so handsome, so beautiful.”

Yuuri’s arm is getting tired from holding up his phone, but he can see Viktor blushing and biting his lower lip on the screen and that sight alone is enough for him to strain his muscles just to get a glimpse of it. Still, he moves the pillow to support his arm after a moment as Viktor keeps whispering words that are flattering and arousing at the same time.

“It sounds like you’ve missed me,” Yuuri whispers.

He is hard and as he slips his hand below his waistband to finally, _finally_ touch himself, an incoming call from Phichit startles him and he almost throws his phone to the other side of the room.

Yuuri does not answer the call, but the mood is gone. At least Viktor laughs and assures him that it was a pleasant evening while it lasted—promises him to make him scream with pleasure the next time they meet.

(Yuuri calls Phichit afterwards, just to found out that Phichit butt-called after he slipped his phone into his pocket in a hurry, and he sighs, going back to the bathroom to take a cold shower.)

**4**

**World Championship**

They cannot keep their hands off each other.

Viktor kisses Yuuri with enthusiasm, holding him close with one arm as he struggles to open the door with his free hand.

“Let me help,” Yuuri whispers against Viktor's lips and takes the keycard from his fingers.

Yuuri turns around and shivers when Viktor presses open-mouthed kisses to his nape. He attempts to open the door to no avail and frowns.

“Viktor, it’s not opening,” Yuuri says.

Viktor groans.

“We should’ve gone to _your _room,” he whispers.

“You know I’m rooming with Phichit.” Yuuri swipes the keycard through the reader again. The door remains closed.

Viktor digs inside his pocket and pulls out another keycard.

“Let’s try this one,” Viktor says and giggles when the door opens. “I guess your card and mine got mixed inside my pocket.”

Yuuri pockets his own keycard like he should have done since the beginning and walks inside the room, leaving his shoes by the door. Viktor follows him and closes the door behind them.

Viktor wraps his arms around Yuuri and lifts him in his arms, making him laugh. Yuuri places his hand on Viktor’s chest and feels his steady heartbeat on his palm, a moment of quietness while they stare into each other’s eyes before Viktor places Yuuri on the bed and catches his mouth in a kiss.

Yuuri holds Viktor close, tugging him down so he can lie together on top of him.

“I missed you,” Viktor whispers against his lips.

“I missed you too,” Yuuri replies, kissing Viktor again, and again—to make up for the lost time, to show Viktor how much he has been thinking about him.

Both have to skate the following day, but Yuuri is sure that if it was not the case, he would be undressing Viktor, grinding against him and making him fulfill his promise.

Yuuri does not want to think about the morning, they will leave early to prepare for the competition, returning to their respective training, cheering for each other without losing their own focus on winning.

It will be the first time Yuuri will see Viktor skating live after his comeback, and after Yuuri finishes skating, Viktor will be waiting for him on the other side of the rink, most likely with a smile and open arms.

Those thoughts are enough to overwhelm Yuuri, but he cannot wait.

“Yuuri,” Viktor starts, taking a break from the kissing after a moment. “The season is basically over.”

Yuuri pursues his lips, guessing where the conversation is going. He wishes to delay it, to pretend that those difficult decisions are still months away.

“I know.”

“Have you thought about what you want to do afterwards?” Viktor asks, tracing Yuuri’s lower lip with his thumb. “What do you want to do during the next season.”

“I—” Yuuri whispers, feeling lost at words. “It’s not a good time to talk about the next season,” Yuuri replies at last.

“Then, when will a good time to talk about this?” Viktor does not sound angry, just tired and Yuuri bites his lower lip.

“I don’t know, just not _right now_,” Yuuri answers.

“It’s fine.” Viktor sighs. “I won’t push the subject if you don’t want to talk about it, but don’t forget that you can talk to me about anything.”

Viktor takes Yuuri’s hand and places a soft kiss on his ring.

“Thanks,” Yuuri mumbles and turns his head to the side, knowing that if he keeps looking at Viktor’s honest eyes, he will spill out all of his insecurities and he really does not want to mess up their first night together in months.

“You better show me your best skate tomorrow,” Viktor says after a moment of silence. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

Viktor flops on the bed next to Yuuri and holds his hand.

“I’ll cheer for you too, I’ve wanted to see your programs live since Nationals,” Yuuri confesses.

“You truly inspired me to create them.” Viktor turns to the side to look at Yuuri and their noses touch. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I love you,” Yuuri whispers. It is not the first time he does, but at that moment, the words are especially hard to say even when they come to his tongue easily.

“I love you too,” Viktor replies and wraps his arms around Yuuri’s torso holding him close.

They sleep in each other’s arms and Yuuri wishes time could stop if only for a moment.

**5**

**World Team Trophy**

Viktor sits next to Yuuri and holds his hand. The silver medal still hangs off his neck.

An hour or so ago Viktor was cheering with his team as they received their medals. The following moment Yuuri stood on the highest step of the podium with his compatriots and was awarded a gold medal. He smiled at the camera, but after a while, he needed a break.

“I was looking for you,” Viktor says. “I didn’t expect to find you sitting here.”

Yuuri sighs. The last row of stairs around the rink is not the most comfortable place to sit down and have a nice chat after a competition, but it will have to do.

“I wanted to get away from the reporters,” Yuuri replies.

“Understandable,” Viktor agrees. “But the banquet is starting soon, and I can’t wait to dance with you.”

Yuuri does not answer for a moment, watching the rink’s personal cleaning and the Zamboni moving from one side to the ice to the other.

“I’ll go get ready in a moment,” Yuuri promises. “I brought the tailored suit you got for me.”

“I’m sure you’ll look dashing, sweetheart.”

Another moment of silence, not awkward but neither entirely comfortable. Yuuri finds himself twisting his ring around his finger after a moment.

“I know we haven’t talked about this, but I wanted to tell you this was my last competition,” Viktor comments and Yuuri turns so fast to look at him he gets dizzy. “I’m retiring, permanently this time.”

“Viktor—” Yuuri starts but Viktor lifts his hand to stop him.

“Just give me a moment,” he says. “I was expecting to retire after Worlds and make an official announcement in May, but Georgi injured his ankle and I had to step in and compete.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Yuuri can barely squeeze the words past his throat.

“I planned to tell you the night before the short program at Worlds,” Viktor replies. “Then later, but there was always something holding me back. Mostly the competitions, but I also didn’t want to upset you.”

“I’m upset now,” Yuuri argues.

“But you had a great season and just won another gold medal! That’s all that matters. I didn’t want you to get distracted, not when your scores were consistent and improving.”

“You should’ve had! It was not much of a great season anyway,” Yuuri mumbles. “I missed you all the time.”

“That’s a feeling I understand perfectly.” Viktor starts rubbing circles on the back of Yuuri’s hand. “It was hard to be away from you, that’s why I want to retire, to be with you.”

Yuuri does not know if he is still upset, or if he feels guilty, or both—definitely both—as the tears start welling in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I’m so sorry, the last thing I wanted was to keep you away from the ice.”

“You’re not keeping me away from the ice,” Viktor whispers, tugging Yuuri closer to hug him.

“Sometimes it feels like I am,” Yuuri says.

“Yuuri, my life for the last twenty years has been focused on competing year after year, it’s time for a change.” Viktor presses a kiss to his hair. “I want to live that change with you because I love you.”

Yuuri wipes his eyes.

“I love you too,” Yuuri replies, lets Viktor kiss him softly, once, twice.

“I want to be your coach for as long as you need me,” Viktor says. “There are still things to figure out, but we can do this together, starting now.”

“Now?”

“Yes, we’ll go to the banquet and stay for a while before we elope,” Viktor answers and winks. “We’re kinda close to Hasetsu, so I was planning to visit your parents and maybe eat a bowl of katsudon—or two, you deserve them after all your wins.”

Yuuri laughs for the first time since he arrived at the competition. “Hasetsu is more than a thousand kilometers away from Tokyo.”

“And it’s the closest I’ve been home since December,” Viktor whines and rests his head against Yuuri’s shoulder, lacing their fingers together. “We _have _to go.”

Yuuri’s heart races when he hears the word _home_. There is still a lot to say and a lot to do, but the future might be nicer than he expected.

(Yuuri elopes with Viktor and they take a train to Hasetsu the following morning. And just like that, another puzzle piece falls right into place.)

**\+ 1**

**Grand Prix Series**

During the competitive season, Yuuri follows the same routine every day. He wakes up, skates, returns home and leaves again for ballet practice. He soaks in the hot springs upon arriving home again, and sleeps, making sure to eat enough food and drink plenty of water to survive each day.

However, Yuuri still oversleeps sometimes which results in him cursing as soon as he looks at the clock and realizes that is indeed, _very late_.

Yuuri rolls out of bed and drags himself to the bathroom to get ready, splashing his face with cold water to wake himself up. He grabs something to eat on his way out and jogs to the rink. Yuuko greets him cheerfully as soon as walks through the threshold, and Yuuri smiles at her before rushing in to get ready.

Yuuri walks to the rink, listening to the sound of skates gliding across the ice. He clears his throat and Viktor turns around to look at him with not-so-feigned disapproval just before a small smile appears on his lips.

“You’re finally here, I was beginning to think that you’d ditch practice.” Viktor looks down at his watch and shakes his head. “You really make me wait long.”

Yuuri groans. “You know I wouldn’t ditch practice.”

It _truly_ has been a while since he has arrived late to practice, but he knows Viktor will complain about it for at least half of the practice time they have left. Not for the first time, Yuuri wonders how Viktor always manages to wake up earlier than him, radiant and ready to face the day.

“I hope that’s true, the NHK trophy is only ten days away,” Viktor replies. “You already have a silver medal, and as long as you secure a good place in the upcoming competition, you’ll go to the Grand Prix Final. However, you need to wake up early and train to do that.”

“I was tired,” Yuuri says as he steps into the ice. “You were the one who kept me up at night.”

Viktor gets closer and circles him, moving with elegance, stopping in front of Yuuri.

“Not until 2 a.m. though.” Viktor winks and places both of his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders.

Yuuri tugs Viktor closer, wrapping his arms around his torso. Sometimes, it is still hard to believe that Viktor is right in front of him—that he wants to be by his side and is happy being his coach. However, Viktor always makes sure to remind him that he does not regret a thing.

Being a coach keeps Viktor close to the ice and close to Yuuri, and according to him, he would not trade that for the world.

Viktor places a tender kiss on Yuuri’s lips and caresses his cheekbones with his thumbs before he takes a step back.

“Let’s get to work,” Viktor says. “Start with the step sequence from your short program.”

“Sure.” Yuuri nods, skating away.

“Yuuri!” Viktor calls and Yuuri pauses, turning around to look at him. “I love you.”

Yuuri smiles, feeling warm even though he stands in the middle of the ice.

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> <s>sorry I can’t write phone sex</s>
> 
> Thanks for reading. ♡ :)
> 
> Comments & kudos are greatly appreciated! ❤
> 
> You can find all my YOI fics [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottonee/pseuds/Cottonee/works?fandom_id=11444638) ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> and you can always come to scream with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/commeunjardin).


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